I am standing with Mark and Christian from OMA A rep from the museum/hotel asks us if we have motorcycle licenses. I do, and I show up next morning and pick out a red 900 something Ducati, then remember to call Phil to remind him about the ride. While I search for a land line, some celeb takes the Ducati, and I get stuck with an RV size 1200 BMW, hydraulic fairing and big ass hard saddle bags.Phil is a no show.

We head out in a big pack towards Lake Mead. The pack going a little too fast for me, on my RV, so I stay near the back. This bike seems three times heavier than any I've ridden.

There are a couple tag-alongs to my rear and I get a little squirrely in a turn and they back off.

At the first break people are a bit restless, and somebody is making fun with Lauren at how slow somebody is going. The two guys who were behind me comment on me almost losing it in that corner.

Second leg, the pack takes off and gets more speed. I reach (a high rate of speed) at points but I throttle back again because I am uncomfortable with the size of the bike. After a short time, there is a stoppage. One of the riders has left the road. I can see someone face down in the desert what seems like 100 feet off the road. It is Lauren.

People are trying to call for help on cell phones but can't get signals. Some people rush up hill in vehicles to try to call for help.

People are out with her.

We wait for a helicopter/ambulance.

Someone, Thomas Krens, announces the ride is over.

I decide to head back to town. The bike is so heavy I cannot even lift it off the stand (the road surface is leaning). Two riders help me lift it.

I ride back to town alone. I take the North route.Eventually I get to the Venetian and turn in the bike. I seem to be one of the first back.I ask the attendant if he knows if Lauren is ok.

I get to a toilet and notice the interior of my helmet has left black dots all over my face and hair.